As It Should Be
by The Neat Freak
Summary: It is no secret to anyone that Alfred has a bad tendency to be a bit of a workaholic. At first, Arthur tries to be understanding—but when he gets ignored far too much for far too long, he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures. Domestic USUK.


**Important  
****— **Characters mentioned belong to Himaruya Hidekaz.  
— Please don't save and re-upload the photo used for this story. It's a fanart I made specific for this story alone.

* * *

Arthur huffs from his perch on their bed as he watches his boyfriend disappear behind the bathroom door.

Alfred has gotten… _busy_ lately.

It isn't the _normal _type of busy Arthur is used to. Sure, Alfred has this awful tendency to be a workaholic. He just cannot be bothered during the weekdays for most things. Time and time again, Alfred amazes Arthur with the younger blonde's capability of absolute concentration.

What Alfred has difficulty resisting, however, is the promise of pleasurable time with his lover.

When Arthur feels that he needs a little extra loving after a rough day at work (sometimes, he wonders why he had chosen to edit things for a job—it honestly brings on more frustration than it does reward), it is worth it when he manages to seduce Alfred to pull away from his work for, as Arthur will say, '_just a tick_.'

"I have to do this for us, ya know," Alfred had said once, just after they had particularly mind-numbing sex on their couch (Arthur couldn't fathom how Alfred was able to have coherent thoughts running through that genius mind of his).

"Gotta concentrate. Earn more money in the long run." Alfred had given him a sweet kiss on the lips, nothing more than an expression of unadulterated affection.

"I'm sorry if you feel like I'm ignoring you sometimes, Art, but I want you to know that I'm always here for you." And Alfred had pressed their lips together again, inhaling Arthur's scent with a deep breath before pulling away. "I want you to know that I love you so much."

It goes without saying that Arthur had completely fucking _melted_ into Alfred's arms, which in turn aroused another round of rough snogging and sex on their living room floor.

Contrary to popular belief, Alfred is ridiculously responsible with his tasks. It is one of the reasons why Arthur is so _attracted _to the younger blonde, for despite being the second youngest amongst his brothers, Arthur is usually the one taking care of his family. Alfred had brought about a good change, and Arthur had never realized how much he liked being _taken care of_ until Alfred had waltzed into his life swept him off his feet.

Alfred works himself day-in day-out on weekdays, but he has never failed to pick up Arthur from work. He also has enough mind to leave his weekends vacant so he and Arthur can spend some lovey-dovey time together. On some days, they will go on mini-dates—have a picnic someplace nice, stroll mindlessly through the park, or maybe even try out some new games in the arcade (much to Arthur's dismay). On most weekends, they will just stay at home, all cuddled up in the sofa with the telly playing some movie.

Of course, the cuddling will usually end up in a variety of sex—sometimes completely vanilla and loving, other times downright dirty and raunchy (they enjoy both sides of the ride, of course).

Arthur can say he is pretty happy with the way his life is currently going. He has a stable job as chief editor of the local newspaper while Alfred is part of the local university's junior faculty (he is taking up his master's degree, focusing on instrumentation physics). They live in a small albeit comfortable flat with their two beloved cats, Hero and Crumpet. They don't pick up money from the ground, but Arthur is pleased that they are well above the poverty line.

Everything is at it should be.

That is until Alfred has taken to bringing his work home.

Arthur had done his best to understand when one Saturday morning, Alfred had said, "Sorry, Art. This is really crucial. I couldn't finish it during the weekday and everything. Hero's promise, Artie! I'll make it up to you!"

Alfred's eyes had shone with so much sincerity and love that Arthur decided that he was completely fine with it. Oh yes. He thought that Alfred was working hard for both of their sakes, and that he should be proud of his lover.

But when those days become more and more frequent—

"Sorry, Artie. I'm really tired and I still have to finish this…"

"Aw man, Arthur. I'm really sorry but something came up…"

"I'll make it up to you later, Artie. But you see…"

"Sorry, Artie—"

"Later, Arthur! I promise—"

—Arthur starts to feel a little desperate.

Alfred isn't getting tired of Arthur, is he? Alfred isn't replacing him with some damned harlot from work… right?

Arthur doesn't like doubting Alfred when the latter has proven his devotion to Arthur so many times before. He will not get worked up over some imaginary person Alfred might be cavorting with. He is better than that. Alfred, bless his soul, is just really swamped with work and he is not keeping another lover behind Arthur's back.

'_Easier said than done,' _taunts a voice in Arthur's mind.

But if anything, Arthur trusts Alfred with his life, and everything else be damned if that trust is broken because of a stupid false assumption. He's just getting desperate, that's all. Is this what missing a month's worth of sex was like? He suddenly cannot imagine how he had been able to go through life before meeting Alfred.

Arthur realizes he has to take things into his own hands. This state _celibacy_ is uncalled for, and if he doesn't get sex _tonight_, well, somebody's going to sleep on the couch.

Arthur hears the muffled pitter patter of the water from behind the door. Alfred usually takes around ten minutes in the shower, which gives him just about enough time to execute his brilliant plan.

He rolls out of bed quietly, and his smile is absolutely wicked as he turns on Alfred's laptop.

* * *

Arthur had been particularly pleasant that morning, Alfred notes to himself.

He has found himself getting used to his lover's grouchy mood the past few weeks, and when Arthur had greeted him with a smile and a kiss that involved a little more tongue than usual, Alfred thinks that something must be up.

Alfred sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and willing his migraine to go away.

He hasn't been ignoring Arthur (without reason), Alfred justifies to himself.

He is planning a week-long trip to Alfred's good ol' hometown in the US for their sixth anniversary (with him proposing to Arthur as the main event), and in exchange, he must finish a big part of his graduate research, which involves him pulling all-nighters and spending less time with Arthur (even during the weekends).

He doesn't _mean_ to ignore Arthur, even if that is somehow the message that gets across. He has isolated himself (a bit) because he is simply afraid of blurting out things he _shouldn't_. He trusts that that Arthur will not think him unfaithful, and he hopes that his older lover will not snoop around (that would be _dangerous _to his plan, considering how Alfred has been so meticulous at keeping everything a secret as to not ruin the surprise).

He also hopes Arthur will continue to be a little more understanding. He has even talked to Arthur's boss about the trip (without Arthur knowing, of course). Today is Friday, his last day of juggling extra work and walking on eggshells, and he will not have to go back until Monday next week. He chuckles at the thought of his students who all but screamed in happiness when he announced they will not be meeting for the following week.

Tonight, he plans on taking Arthur to a nice cozy restaurant he knows the other loves, then he will finally reveal why he has gotten so distant the past weeks, and then he'll whisk Arthur into their cozy flat and just make sweet, sweet love for dessert. Alfred hasn't gotten laid in so long he almost gets hard thinking about it—but first things' first!

He flips his laptop open, fully intent ready to start another day's work—

—only to find that his desktop wallpaper is a photo of his _naked_ lover lying lewdly on their sheets. Arthur's eyes are half-lidded, his expression completely sexed-up and wanton, with one hand stretching his pink, lube-coated asshole and the other pinching a pebbled nipple. His legs are spread invitingly, and the only thing covering up his chastity is the pale green sticky note hovering over his cock.

'_Come and get me, sweetheart. ;-)'_

Quickly, Alfred folds his laptop shut. He glances around the faculty room, his senses high on alert. He will _not _have anyone else aside from himself looking at his lover's deliciously naked body.

Alfred's face is flushed, and he feels himself harden a little. Cold sweat dribbles down his temple.

As he tries to cool himself down, he thinks of how absolutely fucking _insane _his lover is to even _think _of pulling a stunt like this. Not that Alfred minds, since Arthur makes for very _scrumptious _eye candy anyway.

He glances at the clock. It's only 7:23AM. Arthur is already at the office around this time.

Well. Alfred supposes that they can totally skip dinner and head straight for dessert instead.

* * *

They have barely shut the door to their flat when Alfred pushes Arthur against the wall and proceeds to kiss him senseless. Alfred's rucksack and Arthur's briefcase are carelessly thrown somewhere on the living room floor, both items completely forgotten.

Arthur smiles into their kiss. Well, at least his plan is working.

Alfred licks at the other's lips languidly, coaxing Arthur to open his mouth. Arthur indulges him, parting his mouth only to suck on Alfred's tongue like it's fucking candy.

Alfred doesn't think anymore. He just goes with whatever feels natural. Arthur's hands are tangled in Alfred's blonde locks while his own hands are rubbing warm circles against Arthur's sides. They slide down Arthur's back, and he squeezes the other's firm backside appreciatively. Arthur decides he really likes these kinds of days, when they both just want to get a piece of each other and Alfred melts into this possessive alpha male role.

Arthur wraps both of his legs around Alfred's waist, and he grinds their clothed erections together.

"Oh god, Arthur," he murmurs into the kiss, "that photo of yours gave me a hard-on in the middle of the fucking day."

Arthur pulls back, causing Alfred to growl at the loss of that wonderful heat occupying his mouth. A sliver of spit connects their tongues. Arthur's emerald eyes crinkle with fond cheekiness.

"It's about time," Arthur quips. "You, Alfred F. Jones, have been _deliberately _ignoring me for quite a while now." He leans forward and slowly drags his tongue over Alfred's closed lips. The sensation causes blood to shoot straight to Alfred's cock.

"And I demand you make up on all the times we could've had cracking sex." He nips at Alfred's earlobe, and for good measure, he whispers huskily into the other's ear, "Sweetheart, I want it as _hard as you can give it to me_."

Alfred's eyes widen for a split second before he grins darkly. His eyes dilate because this sexy minx is _totally_ asking for it_._

"You little bitch."

Arthur suddenly finds himself draped across Alfred's broad shoulder as if he is asack of potatoes. Alfred crosses the threshold of their apartment before reaching their bedroom and dropping Arthur unceremoniously on their bed. Alfred smirks dangerously, hovers over his lover on all-fours, and leans down to plant a firm kiss to Arthur's mouth.

Hands find their way onto Arthur's shirt, and Alfred clumsily unbuttons it with his muddled brain. Boy, could Arthur kiss like a fine slut, and it is draining his thinking capacity like nobody's business.

"You are so fucking gorgeous," Alfred finds himself muttering. Alfred feels that for every insult that came out of his mouth when they play a little rough, he must compliment Arthur, for he never really means the bad words.

Arthur smiles tenderly at him. Alfred wonders if his heart could beat any faster.

Alfred moves his mouth to suckle on Arthur's neck. He leaves the other with teeth marks placed so high up people are bound to see.

'_Good. Let them know you're taken.'_

Arthur reprimands him, giving Alfred a light slap to the back of the head, but he doesn't make a move to stop him.

'_You're mine.'_

Alfred feels a hand groping his crotch through the fabric of his jeans. He moans appreciatively, grinding roughly against Arthur's hand.

'_I'll never let you go.'_

"Ugh," Alfred says as they continue to rut, "I am going to make you scream so fucking loud the entire apartment complex will hear you."

Arthur smiles coyly at him.

"We'll see."

* * *

Arthur is lying on his side, his left leg propped on Alfred's shoulder. Alfred is kneeling, cock buried balls-deep in Arthur's ass.

"Fuckfuckfuck, that's it, Darling.. Mmmh," Arthur moans encouragingly as Alfred continues to thrust in an erratic rhythm. The echo of slicked skin slapping against each other is prevalent in the room. "Yes, that feels... hnggh... wonderful-l... Alfr—"

"Like that?" Alfred teases with a wicked smirk. He halts his movements suddenly, causing Arthur to whine. Alfred rolls his pelvis sensually so that the head of his cock brushes against Arthur's prostrate. He licks a wet trail on Arthur's naked thigh before gently suckling on the flesh.

"You damned sod!" Arthur screeches, and the glare he sends Alfred is almost deadly. That bite is definitely going to leave a mark, although despite himself, Arthur gets more turned on.

_Make-up sex is fucking awesome._

"You bet I am, Babydoll," Alfred purrs as he pulls away with a wet popping sound. He begins thrusting in again, maintaining a fast pace.

Arthur is completely delirious, desperate for release. With a bit of effort, he looks at the way Alfred's huge cock disappears insde him, stimulating his prostrate, only to pull out with this erotic squelching sound he knows he'll never tire of. He reaches a hand towards his swollen cock, only for Alfred to slap his hand away.

Alfred shifts their position such that Arthur's hands are pinned way above his head. "_No. _Only by my cock," Alfred growls huskily. "You will come _only_ by my cock." As if to emphasize his point, he rolls his hips the way he that knows sends Arthur reeling.

They continue rutting against each other, loving the feel of just being so intimately connected after having missed out on each other for a long, long time. Alfred feels the pressure build at the base of his cock, and he gives a 'mmm' of satisfaction. The friction is so fucking good, and he is sure that it wouldn't be long until he orgasms. He dips his head low, mouth meeting Arthur's so they can engage in another round of making out.

Alfred hisses out a soft 'yes' as he and Arthur come together, but his and Arthur's voices are muffled by each other's mouths. Alfred rides out his orgasm, still ruthlessly pounding Arthur's prostrate gland every time.

Arthur barely feels the hot fluid fill him up until Alfred pulls out and the semen leaks from his hole. Had Alfred been paying attention, he will have thought it to be an erotic sight warranting another hard-on, but he is too hungry for actual food to notice. Alfred rolls onto Arthur's side as to not crush his lover with his weight.

There is silence in the room, save for the heavy breathing from both men.

"I think you owe me an explanation," Arthur rasps, his gaze snapping to meet Alfred's blue eyes. Alfred's eyes twinkle merrily as he remembers why he had skipped out on so much sex the past month. He gets up (in all his naked post-sex glory) and retrieves his rucksack from the living room. When he returns, Alfred jumps back to the bed, flashing Arthur a wide grin.

"Tickets to L.A.," Alfred says quietly, his smile fading into something gentler. He waves the tickets in front of Arthur's face. "I wanted to surprise you for our anniversary, so I convinced your boss to let you off a week. I also finished a big chunk of my graduate research so I'll be right on time for my defense next, next week." He presses a closed-mouthed kiss to Arthur's lips, although he doesn't pull away when he speaks.

"Our flight is tomorrow evening and we're staying there for the entire week. You've always told me… how you wanted to meet my parents," he mumbles against Arthur's lips.

Arthur is astounded and is delightfully surprised. His stomach is fluttering with_ butterflies _as if he were 17 and not fucking 26. Even after all this time with Alfred, the younger man has never failed to just make Arthur keel. He feels like his head is in the clouds. He will know a different part of Alfred by going to the States. This is the first time in his life that he is going to see Alfred's childhood home. For cripes' sake, he will be meeting Alfred's _parents_—

Alfred suddenly finds himself on his back with a heavy weight on top of him. Arthur had tackled him down, enveloping Alfred in a warm embrace. Arthur feels absolutely giddy, and he nuzzles at Alfred's neck, who in turn wraps his arms around Arthur's waist.

"Do you think they'll like me?" Arthur asks shyly, almost worriedly. He feels Alfred kiss him on his temple.

"Babe, they gave us their blessing when we outed to them on Skype! And that was on our first year of dating!" Alfred chuckles. "They'll _love_ you, Sweetheart. I'm just sure of it. You'll fit in right in the family!"

Arthur stares at him with what Alfred could only describe as pure _adoration_. Arthur buries his face at the crook of Alfred's neck, breathing in that strong warm scent that is _Alfred_. "I love you, Alfie," he mumbles.

Alfred doesn't snicker at the rarely used nickname because Arthur in his uber fucking lovey-dovey mood is the sweetest treat Alfred can get. Instead, he cups Arthur's face so that their eyes could meet and he presses another soft kiss to Arthur's lips.

'_Yeah, you'll fit in quite nicely,' _Alfred thinks to himself, his mind drifting to that ring he had picked up before driving to Arthur's work place. Alfred cuddles Arthur like the latter is some teddy bear.

Everything is as it should be.

* * *

**Ramblings**

**— **This is basically an excuse to write my first smut. I am a sucker for really rough smut then cuddling. ( ;o; )  
— I haven't written anything in a long, long time, and this fic is unbeta-ed. (sob) Please point out weird wordings and stuff, since I like writing stuff in present tense but I use past tense when I have to refer to something done in the past and whoooooo what the hell I might mix them up and shit. ( ;v; )  
— Feedback makes me super happy. :'D


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